


Now Nightmares Can Begin

by Paper_Cat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma Names, Angst, Canon Compliant, Couffaine Family, Dreams, Dysphoria, Episode: s02 Le Marchand de Sable | Sandboy, Fog, Multi, Nightmares, No Ladybug or Chat Noir, Police, Redecorating, The Ladyblog, The classmates get attention, live streaming, nobody actually dies though, the Liberty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper_Cat/pseuds/Paper_Cat
Summary: What did all of the classmates see during Sandboy? A series of everyone's worst nightmares come to life, based on what we saw in the episode.Featuring Alix, Alya, Nino, and eventually everyone else whose nightmare wasn't directly shown to us.
Relationships: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle
Comments: 13
Kudos: 36





	1. Alix's Worst Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Just as Nightmare!Adrien was not actually a transformed Adrien, when a character interacts with an altered version of another character, it's not actually them. However, since all of these stories occur at approximately the same time, certain effects of some people's nightmares can bleed over into others'.  
> I will be updating this sporadically with more characters.

“The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!”

Alix sat bolt upright in bed, a second after the dark shape swooped over her window. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. In a daze, she rolled upright, stumbled sleepily to the light, flipped the switch, and gasped.

Her room, her perfect, messy room, was completely changed. Gone were the black band posters and paint splashes between her sagging bookcases. Her piles of skating gear and assorted computer parts had totally vanished. In their place were four pristine plaster walls, a towering clothes closet, and some cushioned wooden chairs, all colored the weakest, sappiest shade of pale pink that Alix had ever seen.

She looked back at her bed. The plain green sheets were replaced with frilly lace and a pile of rounded pillows of the same washed-out hue. The adjustable LED light by her bedside was now a bulbous ceramic monstrosity with a lampshade covered in pale pink roses. Alix yanked off the lampshade, hoping that the pink tint to the room would fade, but the sickly yellow bulb underneath just made the room look even worse.

Who could have done this? This was the worst prank anyone had ever played on her, worse than the time Kim put washing soda in her hair dye when she was twelve and she lost half the hair on her left side. How had they even gotten into the Louvre, anyway? She reached over to the bed to inspect one of the insipid pillows under the lamp. It was square, rather lumpy, too small to be practical, and bore a message stitched across the middle in loopy pink embroidery.

“you are always Beautiful”. _Well, your capitalization certainly isn’t,_ Alix thought, and turned to hurl the pillow against the wall. And froze.

Where her old wall had a series of dents and scrapes from bouncing various balls against it, the new wall had a mirror. It wasn’t the pale pink frame that Alix was staring at this time, but the reflection she saw inside of it. She had fallen asleep in a pair of sweatpants and one of her band t-shirts. The figure gazing back at her was wearing skimpy pink pajama pants and a matching crop top with the words _Like a QUEEN_ in rhinestones across the front. Her hair, surprisingly, was no longer neon pink – it was blonde, the same boring color that it hadn’t been for five years, unusually straight and stiff, and just short enough that she could neither tuck away it behind her ears nor tie it back to keep from flopping over her face. Even her face looked different. Her lips were fat and shiny-looking, her cheeks were unnaturally blank, and her eyelashes felt heavy and stuck together. Alix stared into the mirror in horror. Was this what she would look like in makeup? How on earth had they done this to her in her sleep, let alone removed the color from her hair?

This was unbearable. It had to be some kind of akuma attack. Some twisted monster that turned everyone into the person they’d spent their life trying not to be. Alix turned to the corner for her phone, and there it was- not the plain black case she remembered, but a glittery iPhone two sizes smaller. When she tapped on the screen, she noticed, to her disgust, that her fingernails were several millimeters too long, filed into rounded squares, and painted – of course – in the same ugly, glossy pale pink of the room.

That settled the akuma question. No pranksters could make her nails grow longer, right? Still, she unlocked the phone with her new, awkward fingers, grateful that her passcode was still the same. Alix clumsily tapped over to the Ladyblog website, wondering why anyone would _choose_ to have nails so long and uncomfortable. There was no report from Alya, which was odd, but several people had reported weird noises, sightings of monsters, and a creepy young boy who flew above the city with a bag of dust. So it was an akuma, after all.

Alix sat back on the edge of the pale pink bed, scowling, and dug her pale pink toenails into the stiff pink rug. She tried to calm down and forget about it, but it was impossible; wherever she looked, the taunting color oppressed her on all sides. Ladybug and Cat Noir had better fix this one soon. She would have rather battled monsters and evil geniuses herself than allowed anyone – _anyone_ \- to tamper with her room, much less her own body. This pretty pink prison was truly her worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alix is awesome! She's down for any kind of dare or adventure, no matter how scary. Her real fear, though, is changes or attacks on her identity that she can't control. 
> 
> I wrote this by itself several weeks ago for fun, and only when posting it did I realize that I was high-key projecting.


	2. Alya's Worst Nightmare

“The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!”

Alya was awakened by the crying of the twins down the hallway. She listened as Ella whimpered, “No, no, no… Scary! Go ‘way!” _Probably just a nightmare_ , she thought. No reason for her to get out of bed and get involved. Then she heard a low growling sound, and footsteps outside her door. She scrambled out of bed quickly, her heart pounding, and moved towards the light. But before she could get to the door, it opened on its own. Silhouetted in the light was a familiar figure, rounded, bumpy… yet changed.

“N..Nino? You’re the Bubbler again? W… w… Why?”

The figure stepped into the room and turned on the light. He looked like the Bubbler that Alya remembered, but instead of his cheerful red, yellow, and blue costume, this villain was dressed only in black and gray.

“Not quite, _Rena_ ,” he sneered. “The Bubbler tried to spread joy by letting us kids have fun together and connect at a party. But what happens when the party’s over? The kids get just as bad as the adults, that’s what. They want to be famous, so they start making their own little attention-getting _blogs_ ”- he spat out the word, and Alya flinched- “more important than the people that they called _friends_. Or even boyfriends. You didn’t love me nearly as much as you love that phone you’re holding.”

Alya looked down at the phone that had indeed materialized in her sweaty hand. Perhaps her reporting instincts weren’t the best right now; she decided to close the camera app and put it back in her pocket.

“Nino, I’d never-“

“I’m not finished with you yet, dude! You weren’t content to spend all your time blabbing into a screen for fame, not to mention you forgot my birthday but not your interview with Ladybug. You were so desperate for attention that you decided to put on a skintight suit of your own and go prancing across the rooftops with her. Or was that just an illusion, _Rena Rouge_?”

Alya gulped. If Nino knew her secret, did that mean Hawkmoth knew? Had she compromised Ladybug’s security? She’d never meant to!

“Look, Nino, maybe we could figure all this out. I never- I mean, I thought you were OK with me running the blog- “

“As if!” the figure snarled. He pulled out his bubble wand, which was covered in a shiny black substance, like oil. “I’m tired of you ignoring me for your dumb projects. Now you get to see what it’s like. You want to be famous? I’m the Bubble Burster, and I’m here to cut you loose from your delusions forever!”

Alya sank to her knees in despair. “Please, Nino, I know you-“

“You know _nothing_ about me,” the Bubble Burster said. He pursed his lips as if to blow her a kiss, but instead brought the wand to his lips and blew an impossibly large bubble that surrounded her in its smoky black walls. Alya tried to pop it, but the wall just sprang back from her finger- it was useless.

“Let me out!” she screamed, but her voice echoed back at her pointlessly. The Bubble Burster laughed, sounding vaguely muffled. “The outside is mirrored and soundproof, so nobody will ever be able to hear you or see you ever again. Have fun, my dude! Now it’s off to Hawkmoth I go!”

The Bubble Burster turned and leaped out of the open window before floating away on a platform of oily bubbles. Alya put her head in her hands and sobbed. Had she really forgotten Nino’s birthday? She thought it was in December, but could she really be so sure? She didn’t know how she had failed him, but she must have somehow, which was what made it so unbearable.

Reflexively, Alya pulled out her phone. There was no Wi-Fi or cellular signal at all, but there was one new message, a voice call from Nino dated three hours ago. Alya pressed play, and his pure, sweet voice filled the bubble from her phone’s speakers.

“Um, dude, I was wondering… When are you going to be free from the Ladyblog stuff to, you know, hang out? We haven’t played video games in, like, a long time, and I kind of miss you… I’m a little sad about it, to tell the truth. It seems kind of bogus not to see each other outside of school. Can we talk about it tonight maybe? Peace.”

Alya’s journalistic mind pieced together the story instantly. Nino had been upset and messaged her this while she was still planning her Ladyblog scripts for the upcoming live stream. She’d gone to bed exhausted, not checking her phone, and he’d stayed up all night waiting pointlessly for her response. Finally, his anger had gotten too harsh, and he’d been akumatized.

Poor Nino! In the bubble of darkness, Alya cried for him, but not for herself. She felt like a worthless jerk who couldn’t spare a thought for anyone, not even those she loved, but demanded everyone else’s full attention. Alone in a soundless void forever, she deserved to suffer her own worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bubbler and Evillustrator always struck me as villains who could have caused a lot more damage, if their powers had been granted to meaner people. Imagine what someone like Lila could have done with either of those! Perhaps the Butterfly Miraculous has a safety feature which only grants such strong powers to people who won't really misuse them. 
> 
> Anyway, here's my take on Nightmare!Nino. Alya's fear is that through her work, she might be cutting herself off from those she loves. Her nightmare shows her a world where she unintentionally hurt Nino, Ladybug, her family, and all of Paris, and as a result, she won't see them ever again.   
> Next up: Nino's Nightmare! If you thought this was dark, just you wait.


	3. Nino's Worst Nightmare

“The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!”

Ding! Nino sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t know how he had fallen asleep so quickly while waiting for his reply from Alya. _I_ _must have been really tired from skateboarding with Alix earlier,_ he thought. He unlocked his phone and checked the time: 8:21. Good, he had only been out for ten minutes or so. He clicked on the new voice message, and Alya’s bold, beautiful voice rang out.

“Hey, sorry, Nino; it’s been a tough time since I had to post three new recap videos for this week’s akuma attacks and write my script for the interview in ten days. Tonight, I was planning to do my first ever live stream where people could ask me questions about running a blog. I was going to start at 8:30 and end at 9:00, but if you want to talk instead, I can totally postpone it… Sorry again for all of this…”

Nino was a little confused. He didn’t remember Alya mentioning the live stream at school, but he definitely wasn’t going to get in the way of his girlfriend’s success. He could easily wait for 30 minutes to talk in private, and sent a quick text.

Nino: _go ahead! Live streaming is an awesome idea and I’ll totally be tuning in. We can talk later. :)_

Alya’s typing notification popped up, and a second later the reply appeared.

Alya: _Great! You can actually go to it now on the Ladyblog and help me test my camera_.

Nino hopped into his desk chair and opened his laptop. Outside, it was beginning to rain, and the branch of a tree was casting wavy shadows over the screen. He reloaded the Ladyblog tab that was kept open at all times and immediately clicked on the link to the live stream. Alya’s face appeared on his screen, beaming happily.

“Hey Nino! How do I look? Nobody else will be able to watch or comment until 8:30, so you can be totally honest here.”

Nino started to speak out loud, and then realized that Alya couldn’t hear him. He typed his reply into the comments box on the right side of the video.

 **dj_nino** : you look great! Try moving the camera back a little tho

 **dj_nino** : you’re going to rock, dude!

Alya smiled and adjusted her camera. “Better?”

 **dj_nino** : Awesome! just be yourself and everyone’s going to love it!

“Aww, you really think so? Or are you just saying that to make me less nervous?” Alya smiled. “I’m not Marinette, you know. I’m great with a crowd. Let’s see, just gotta click here, and 3… 2… 1…”

As the clock changed to 8:30, usernames started pouring into the comments section, some classmates and friends of theirs but also dozens of random people.

 **marinettedesigned** : Alya! Looks great! So proud of you!

 **sportsmonkey** : hey Alya, cool idea, can I be on the Ladyblog?

 **BigChungus** : first

 **LadybugFan333** : OMG!!! I <3 Ladybug so much can you get her to meet with me??? Please???

 **indigo_storm** : awesome

Alya grinned on screen. “Hi, guys! I’m Alya, the Ladyblogger, and tonight is for you guys to ask me whatever questions you have about the blog. Anything you’ve ever wanted to know about how we operate? Ask away!”

 **AdrienAgreste** : How do you communicate with Ladybug?

 **LadybugFan333** : WHAT’S LADYBUG’S NUMBER AJKSDNEWL

 **Bugwatcher94** : what is ladybug’s identity

 **onecornchip** : where does ladybug live

Alya stared into the screen, looking somewhat worried. “All great questions, guys… Let’s see here…”

 **matrixmind** : How do you arrive on the scene of an akuma attack so rapidly? Statistically, the median attack lasts 19 minutes while the median time to locate it and arrive from a random location should be at least 23.

Alya smiled. “Aha! Great question, Markov! We rely on our users to report the signs of an attack and upload video clips that they take. As soon as I see signs of an attack, I ride my bike to the scene if it’s close enough, or if not I just say where I am and review the clips to make sure they’re all good footage. A lot of attacks have happened at my school, and for those I can get first-hand coverage right away! On scene, I try to assess for safety, and then… “

 **onecornchip** : boring

 **LadybugFan333** : I wanna meet Ladybug, SHE’S MINE

 **LadybugFan334** : no, she’s MY waifu <3 <3 <3

 **marinettedesigned** : what about Chat Noir, guys?

 **BigChungus** : cat noir sucks

 **Death2N00Bz** : this livestream is trash

Alya stiffened. “Guys, can we please keep it civil? I can’t give out any information about Ladybug – or Chat Noir, or Rena Rouge either, for that matter. Even if I did know, telling everyone would expose them to danger from Hawk Moth. But, if you have any questions about my job, I’d be glad to answer!”

 **LadybugFan290** : BOO

 **LadybugFan512** : YOU **** I WANNA KNOW WHO LADYBUG IS

 **DeathToN00Bz** : you’re ugly

 **SpotStalker16** : send me ladybug’s address I won’t tell

 **BigChungus** : reynee rouge is a useless hero

 **Foxy63** : yeah but rena rouge is thicc though

Alya sighed, turning her head away from the camera for a second before glancing up at the screen again, and then quickly burying her face in her hands. Nino wished he could be there for her, but the trolls had taken over the comment section, and anything he said would be immediately drowned out.

 **LadybugFan185** : you’re so lame

 **NinjaRageWin** : go commit die

 **29sabrina** : This is utterly ridiculous. Chloe would be calling you a failure if she bothered to watch your silly livestream anyway. But she didn’t.

 **RealLadybgu** : as ladybug I agree, I think your dumb, and bad representing me to my fans.

Alya was sitting with her head bent over and her back shaking, obviously crying as the rain pounded hard outside. Suddenly, she gasped, jerking her head up as a purple mask appeared over her eyes.

 **marinettedesigned** : Oh no!!! Alya! Don’t give in to it!!!

 **NinjaRageWin** : wow she’s turning evil, cool

Alya shuddered, and then smiled creepily. “Of course, Hawkmoth,” she said as dark purple clouds obscured Nino’s screen. When they cleared, Nino saw Lady Wifi’s costumed form staring straight at him. “Hey, Ladybug fans,” she said with a sneer. “Tonight, I’m going to be answering all your questions about being akumatized. This may be the last night that you’re able to hear the answers, so listen up! First off: who do I blame for this? Not Hawkmoth, not Ladybug and Cat Noir, not even most of you random idiots who made fun of me. I blame… Nino. He lied to me earlier, told me this would be fine, and then he didn’t do anything now to help me. Unfortunately for you, Nino, I’m not going to be quite so inactive in return. That brings me to my second question: how does it feel to be akumatized? It feels incredible. Finally, I have the power to express the anger that I’ve hidden for so long. I’m no longer Alya, the forgotten friend who has to beg to be heard. Tonight, I am Darkweb, and I’m going to show everyone in Paris my revenge!”

The figure on screen smirked, and Nino felt a twinge of panic, but an even deeper ocean of loss. Alya- Darkweb- had felt that way about him the entire time? How could he have missed it? Could he have missed it? What should he have done differently to help his girlfriend? With a sinking heart, Nino realized that he had no idea.

Darkweb tensed up, then jumped directly into the screen. Before Nino even had a chance to flinch, a huge burst of light shone directly through his window! A split second later, an ear-splitting CRACK of thunder reached his ears. When Nino’s vision cleared, the screen in front of him showed a frozen blur of movement, but Darkweb herself was nowhere in sight. Frantically, Nino reloaded the page. The screen turned blank for a moment, then displayed two terrifying words: No Internet.

Nino pushed himself away from the laptop and sat in shock and fear. What had happened to Darkweb when the lightning struck? Had he just witnessed his girlfriend’s death? Perhaps she had simply gone somewhere else-- but no, she had said that she would be coming for him first, because she blamed him for the akumatization- oh no, had he caused his girlfriend’s death?

The rain was beginning to quiet down, but Nino still lay on the floor of his bedroom, sobbing. Just when he thought that things could not get any worse, an already-terrifying akumatization had turned into his worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little longer than I wanted, but mostly because I had so much fun with everyone in the livestream! Obviously, marinettedesigned and AdrienAgreste are Marinette and Adrien, but I also put in some other characters. sportsmonkey is Kim's username, indigo_storm is Juleka, matrixmind is Markov (a Markov matrix is used by computers to understand language), and 29sabrina is Chloe using Sabrina's account. Of course, none of these characters are actually commenting, because the whole thing is a nightmare, but I put them in anyway. 
> 
> Everyone else is just a troll. Even (especially) RealLadybgu. Also, there really are over 500 LadybugFans in this world... 
> 
> Nino's worst fear is that he won't be able to help his friends or cheer people up when they need him. This happens here with Alya, but also when he is unable to do anything once the comment section breaks down.


	4. Ivan's Worst Nightmare

"The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!"

Ivan rolled over, stretched and yawned. He tilted his head to peer at the glowing green numbers on his clock with one eye: 10:18. Not even close to morning; in fact, he had just barely fallen asleep. So why did he have the feeling that it was absolutely necessary to get up?

Ivan pushed away his dark blue comforter and sat up. He turned around, flipped on the light by his bed, swung his feet over the edge— and froze.

A glistening, pink and purple creature was sitting on the floor, directly below his right foot. It was the size of a small cat, with three yellow eyes and a crest of blue tentacles on its head. A trail of pink slime stretched behind it across the carpet.

Ivan stared at it, his heart pounding. "Honey-pie? Mylène?"

The creature squeaked enthusiastically and stretched onto its hind legs to boop its head against Ivan's foot. Ivan was shocked. How had Mylène gotten akumatized again? She was always so kind and thoughtful... At least the monster was already small this time; she must not have scared anyone. Now, it was simply a matter of holding onto her until Ladybug and Cat Noir made their way here, and they'd have Mylène back to normal in no time.

Ivan gingerly moved his leg to the side. The monster squeaked again and rolled about playfully under Ivan's foot, but he managed to slowly lower his foot to the ground without stepping on her. He reached down, and scooped the little creature up in his hands. Horrificator was even smaller than she had looked at first: only about the size of a large squirrel, but covered in a thick layer of pink goo. Ivan tried to wipe the slime away on his shirt, but it was almost impossible. In fact, it seemed to be regenerating just as fast as he removed it...

"Oh, _no,_ " Ivan whispered. Horrificator squeaked faintly. She was definitely shrinking now, almost melting away into the pink slime that oozed down Ivan’s hand. How was this possible? Wasn't Horrificator supposed to get _bigger_ when people were afraid of her, not smaller?

Ivan tried to stand up and carefully shifted Horrificator into his right hand. For a heart-stopping instant, he thought he'd caught her leg between his hands, but then she rolled over and Ivan could see that she was fine. With halting steps, he stumbled out the door, down the short hall, and into the bathroom. Ivan turned on the tap with his left hand, adjusting it to a fine flow, and cautiously trickled the water over Horrificator's back. She buzzed faintly, but stayed mostly still as the clots of ooze washed away. Then he placed her on a towel, where she crouched, rubbing her head tentacles with one arm like a pink chipmunk. Ivan smiled; in spite of the situation, Mylène could still be endearing. But then he frowned again as a new thought struck his mind: how was he going to get Ladybug and Chat Noir to help him?

Perhaps he could submit a report to the Ladyblog. Ivan picked up the entire towel from beneath and held it in one hand as he walked back to his room. With each step, Horrificator's skin quivered like Jell-O. Ivan picked up his phone in his left hand, clumsily swiping across the screen. He tried to open up the Ladyblog, but instead he got an error message.

This was impossible! The Ladyblog was never down! As Ivan panicked, he looked back at his hand and saw that Horrificator was shrinking again. Ivan forced himself to calm down, and the shrinking appeared to stop. A mouse-sized Horrificator blinked up at him with its three eyes the size of golden peas.

Ivan tried to think logically about the situation. There was no way to notify Ladybug and Chat Noir until morning, and he definitely didn’t want a tiny Horrificator crawling around in his room all night. What if she dislodged a box or something and it fell on her? Ivan blocked out the thought, scowling. The only thing to do was to break the akumatized object himself, and to try to keep Mylene from getting angry or upset until they could explain the situation to Ladybug. The multiplying akuma was unfortunate, but as he knew, it was possible to purify it later by fighting again.

Ivan looked down, and saw his pin on Horrificator's forehead, the size of a lentil between the thin tentacles of her hair. He slowly reached down towards her head to pinch the pin between his finger and his thumb. When he was an inch away, Horrificator turned, and Ivan quickly stopped to reorient his hand. This wouldn't do. How could he calm her down?

"Smelly wolf, smelly wolf..." Ivan's voice was shaky and surprisingly loud. Horrificator didn't seem to be changing size at all, but she did stop moving and settle down a bit.

Ivan lowered his thick fingers around the approximate location of the pin, but couldn't see what he was doing since his hand was in the way. He felt something on his thumb. Was it the pin? He carefully squeezed it, and felt something squishy as Horrificator squealed.

Immediately, Ivan jerked his hand away in a rush of fear. Horrificator was holding her head with both forelimbs, and the tentacle nearest the pin looked crushed and bruised. _I hurt you,_ Ivan thought. _With my big, stupid hands, I hurt you._

Ivan wanted to cry and give into the sadness, but he couldn't; Horrificator was already shrinking again. It was no use trying to get the pin, since it was half the size that it had been previously. Ivan looked around for a jar or container to put Horrificator in, so that maybe, just maybe, he could protect her until morning.

Nothing. It was useless. Horrificator was shrinking faster and faster before Ivan's eyes. She looked up at him, and started crawling surprisingly quickly off the edge of the towel. Ivan stumbled, trying to catch Horrificator in his other hand; but she slipped through his fingers in a shrinking blob of slime. Ivan's heart nearly stopped as he looked down at the floor.

A single drop of semi-transparent pink goo sat on the rug. That was all.

All of the fear that Ivan had been holding back was released. Horrificator- Mylène- was gone, and all of Ivan's strength was useless to bring her back. No power in the world would help him now, and he was left to face the darkness of his worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan does NOT have enough content... and I'm fixing that by putting him through the worst torment imaginable! ;) 
> 
> Ivan's fear is that his strength will make him insensitive and unable to properly interact with other people. Here, he feels even more self-conscious about his size compared to a shrinking Mylène. 
> 
> My headcanon for Horrificator is that she gets larger when people are afraid of her, but gets smaller when people are afraid for her. That's why she originally shrank when the band played "Smelly Wolf": not because the music calmed her down, but because the classmates were worried about helping her, not running from her. 
> 
> Oh, and in case this story wasn't angsty enough: Ivan is not likely to notice when Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat Sandboy in a few minutes and the trace of slime disappears, which means he's going to keep thinking that Mylène disappeared all night. :( It's going to be cute when they meet at school the next day, though!


	5. Mylène's Worst Nightmare

“The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!”

Mylène awoke on the edge of a flat, dark landscape. There were no buildings, no trees, no plants, or anything else in sight; just a featureless gray plane with a slightly lighter gray sky above. _Where am I?_ she wondered. _Is this some kind of akuma attack?_

As far as she could see, the blank plane stretched out. The ground was rough, like weathered asphalt but with no cracks or seams in sight, and its slight bumps didn’t seem to be casting shadows. Mylène turned to look behind her— and froze.

Only two feet away, the ground disappeared into an immense straight-edged chasm of darkness. The rock face beneath her was almost completely smooth, with no ledges, just a few bumps on the surface of the stone that faded away slowly with depth. Mylène couldn’t see the far side of the chasm, nor could she see it ending on the left or the right; it was as if half of the world had simply vanished. She tried to back away from the edge, but it was impossible; her muscles refused to move as she stood staring into the depths of the pit, feeling as if any movement would cause her to fall forwards and disappear into it.

Mylène swallowed and tried to calm her panicked breathing. She forced herself to look at simple things: her hands, the pins on her jacket, the beads swinging on the ends of her hair. These were small, containable. Whatever nightmare this was would be, too. Slowly, Mylène began to walk backwards, opening up blessed space between herself and the pit.

When she was about twenty feet away, Mylène heard a loud BOOM behind her and turned around. In the distance, something was moving, a gray blur against the gray sky and dark gray ground. It seemed to be getting bigger as Mylène squinted at it. A second later, Mylène realized what it was: a large rock, the size of a small boulder, rolling directly towards her!

Mylène hesitated for a second, and then ran to the left as the rock barreled towards her. A few seconds later, the thundering rock passed by and shot directly out into the abyss. Mylène turned around, and saw it receding into the pit as it gradually arced away into the darkness.

She forced herself to think rationally. Danger could come from both sides now; the source of the rock was far away, but she didn’t want to get any closer, not with the speed the rock had approached her. Besides, she wanted to stay close enough to the pit to see it, so that she wouldn’t have to worry about how far away it was. The only thing to do was to stay in place.

The giant rock had left a trail of pebbles and debris behind it. Hands shaking, Mylène walked back over and picked up one of the pieces: it was mostly round with a large dent on one side. She turned and threw it towards the edge, but it hit the ground, bounced, and rolled to a stop only six inches away. Somehow, this was even more unsettling to Mylène than if it had fallen over the edge.

A tremor passed through Mylène. Briefly, she wondered if it was because of fear, but then she heard rumbling in the distance. Sure enough, another rock was approaching; and either it was moving a lot slower than the first one, or it was much bigger.

Judging by the noise, Mylène decided on the second option. As it got closer, Mylène saw that she was right: it was the size of a large boulder, almost twice as big as the first! What should she do? It seemed to be veering off to the left a little, so Mylène ran to the right; two seconds later, Mylène watched as the boulder careened over the ground on the other side of the first trail- ground where she had been standing not a minute earlier. The ground shook again as it crashed into the cliff, then bounced off and tumbled away into the abyss.

Mylène shuddered, wanting to do nothing more than to fall down on the ground and curl up in a ball- but this would only make her a more vulnerable target for the rocks. Where could she go? How could she get out of this place? She looked around wildly, checking the sky, the ground, anywhere for some sort of magical exit door that would take her away from here.

The ground shook again. The pebble trails from the first two rocks started to move, sliding over the ground and inching into the pit. In despair, Mylène looked back behind her to see, not a single rock, but a wall of boulders barreling along the ground. The largest boulder was directly in front of her, while on either side, a line of other rocks rumbled along like the arms of a monster ready to crush her in its grasp.

Mylène’s heart almost stopped; The rocks were coming for her, and in a few seconds she would be crushed under them like a bug. Time seemed to stretch in the moment of panic, as she desperately tried to think of a way out; but there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, nothing to do except to give in to the panic of her worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back! I apologize for the fact that each chapter seems to be getting darker than the last....
> 
> I originally wanted to have Mylène confront an akumatized version Ivan again, but this made more sense overall for me. Mylène is secure in her relationship with Ivan and isn't scared of him anymore. What she is scared of, though, is large and powerful things approaching that she is unable to stop. That's why she doesn't actually get hit by the wall of rocks: it's not the pain of the collision that she's really afraid of, but the sense of doom as it approaches, time slows down, and there's nothing to do about it. 
> 
> This nightmare is also based on one I had as a kid about a giant boulder balanced on top of a tiny pebble, that could fall at any moment in any direction. It doesn't sound scary, but in the moment, it was absolutely terrifying. 
> 
> And, because I need to have fun even in the middle of horrible angst: Yes, there is a reference here to the "large boulder the size of a small boulder" meme. You're welcome.


	6. Luka's Worst Nightmare

“The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!”

“DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT BEGINS AROUND HERE! THIS IS MY SHIP!”

Luka woke up to the sound of his mom yelling. On its own, the yelling wouldn't have been particularly strange, even at this time of night. Three times in the last two months, Anarka had tried to fend off intruders from the _Liberty:_ first a group of college students seemingly trying to steal the speakers from the deck, then some 8-year-old children who ran up and down the deck and caused mayhem, then a man in a striped suit accompanied by a cloud of pigeons. This yelling match, though, seemed angrier than all of them; his mom wasn't just raising her voice, but sounded like she was moments from attacking the unknown invader.

“YOU TELL ME I CAN'T DO WHAT I WANT? I BUILT THIS SHIP WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS AND A USED CHAINSAW! THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS—”

Luka decided that it was time to intervene. He rolled out of bed, hastily put on a pair of pants and a hoodie over his T-shirt, and stumbled up onto the deck of the ship. Once outside, he blinked a couple times in an unexpected glow: the headlights of a tugboat, black and menacing-looking in the water in front of the _Liberty._ Anarka was standing at the side, yelling down the gangplank at a uniformed man who waited with his arms crossed in front of a police car.

“You think you can come here and threaten MY ship? MY family? MY property? I'll have YOU know that by the principles of YOUR OWN GOVERNMENT—”

The officer sighed and stepped forwards. “Ms. Couffaine, you are under arrest by the government and principalities of France. In addition, this vessel of yours—” he gestured to the _Liberty—“_ is being confiscated—“

Anarka stiffened, and Luka thought she might be turning red, but it was hard enough to tell in the moonlight. The officer continued to speak in his level monotone.

“—your property will be inspected, and we've informed that there are two minors residing on this ship under your custody. We're going to have to take them in for questioning, as well.”

“You leave my children ALONE!” Anarka erupted.

Luka burst forth from the shadows. “Mom, chill! Sir, we can explain whatever this is; please give us some time, maybe we can work something out—“

Anarka and the officer didn't seem to notice. The officer said, “For now, all we require is that you go with us immediately. Your vessel will be handled by the River Police. Please evacuate now, and we will have no further disruption.”

Luka walked timidly up to his mom, reaching to put his hand on her arm. “Um... Mom?”

Anarka didn't react at all, but scowled even harder, before storming across the gangplank and rushing straight at the officer. “TYRANNY! If you think you can just order me around like a second-class citizen—“

The officer deftly side-stepped, and Anarka stumbled before turning around and glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. They continued arguing, and Luka felt a wave of fear wash over him. Why wasn't anyone paying any attention to him? It wasn't like Anarka to ignore anyone, much less her own son, even when she was angry…

Maybe the officer would be more helpful. Luka walked down the gangplank, and stepped between his mom and the officer, who was busy consulting a notepad that he held in his hand. “Um, excuse me, sir, I was wondering if you could clarify...”

The officer tilted his head to the side and stepped briskly around Luka, giving no indication that he had even noticed him. It was as if... Luka swallowed... as if he couldn't be heard at all.

“This is a DISGRACE! I know my rights, cop, and you are NOT getting me to enter that car, you are NOT getting on my ship, and there is no WAY you are taking my children when I haven't even been tried or accused! You have no reason for this, none at all!”

The officer smirked. “Perhaps we do, perhaps we don't, who's to say? But the power of the mayor allows me–” he lifted up his notebook with the Parisian city emblem on the cover— “to arrest you now, and to use all necessary means–” he pointed to his walkie-talkie— “to do it.”

Luka couldn't take it anymore. He yelled, “SIR! MOM! LISTEN! We can work this out, understand, something-- Please!”

Neither of them even turned their heads. Luka stuck his arm out in between the police officer and his mom, and waved his hand back and forth, but a second later Anarka smacked it out of the way. He stumbled back, shocked at the action but grateful that at least he had been recognized- until he looked up and saw his mom clutching the officer’s notebook and inspecting it in her hands.

“‘Potential enemies of the state’? ‘Known anarchists’? ‘Civic danger’? ‘Terrorist’?” Anarka threw the notebook at the ground in front of the officer's feet. “‘TERRORIST’? You’re calling ME a TERRORIST?”

“We're not calling you anything, _yet,_ ” the officer said. “Except resisting arrest.”

The officer stepped backwards and flicked on his walkie-talkie. “Hello? There's a bit of a problem here... Yes, as we expected. We're going to need backup. Two cars for now.”

Luka clapped his hands, shouted, stamped his feet, trying anything he could think of. “I'M RIGHT HERE!” he yelled, but neither of the two even turned; nobody could hear him.

Anarka ranted at the officer some more, with no response. Luka attempted to get their attention some more, pestering them, waving his hands in their faces, with even less response. Eventually, he gave up. What was the use? He was invisible—inaudible—to everyone around him, and there was no way that he was going to catch either of their notice. Instead, Luka picked up the notebook from the policeman's feet and started flipping through it, looking for clues. Why had the policeman come for his mom? Was she really accused of being a terrorist?

Luka found the last page, but it did little to clear up his questions. Instead of the careful style of the previous pages, this page only had a hastily stapled picture of his mom atop a number of scribbled notes. He managed to make out the phrase “known anarchists” at the top, and thought he did see a hint of “civic” and “terror” below, but the rest of the page was an inscrutable mess.

The sound of a siren alerted Luka to the presence of the other two cars. Six police officers, dressed in black and carrying plastic shields, stepped out of the cars and advanced on Luka's mom. Anarka fought back, but there were simply too many of them- in 60 seconds she was handcuffed and seated in the back of the first officer's car. The officers chatted with each other, paying no attention to Anarka's indignant shouts.

Luka watched in a kind of numb horror. What could he do? He could probably sneak into the car, but would he be of any use at the station if nobody could hear him or see him?

While pondering this question, Luka saw a dark flash at the corner of his vision and turned around. The front half of the _Liberty,_ where the tugboat had waited, was now surrounded by a thick black fog. Tendrils curled their way along the _Liberty's_ deck, reaching into the portholes and twisting up the ropes to the front mast. What was going on? Was this some new weapon that the police were using on his mom's ship? Was it a fire, an akuma, or simply just a freak of the weather? A new thought burst into his mind- was his sister in danger?

Luka looked back at the ship, his mind in turmoil, until he heard the police car’s front door slam beside him. This was it, the final choice: to go back on board the ship with Juleka, or to get into the car and follow his mother? There was no time to decide. Quickly, Luka opened the police car door and scrambled into the back seat of the car, unnoticed even by his own mother, who sat next to him muttering angrily and trying to conceal her tears from the officer driving.

As the car zoomed through the streets of the city, passing oddity after oddity, Luka's mind was fixed purely on his family. At the moment when they needed him most, his only reply could be the silence of his worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry that this chapter is so late, but events that happen here will be very relevant for the next few...
> 
> Luka values his empathy most of all: he reads other people's vibes, and then resolves any tension by interacting with them, usually through music. His worst nightmare is losing his ability to communicate or be heard when he is needed to prevent people from getting angry. 
> 
> This is technically a multiple nightmare as well: Anarka Couffaine's worst nightmare is being arrested without a cause. Luka's mom is actually going through this, not simply a nightmare projection.
> 
> Some headcannons and trivia: yes, Mr. Ramier has wandered onto the ship before and gotten scolded for trespassing. Anarka is exaggerating when she says she built the Liberty with nothing but a used chainsaw, but she did transform it from a leaking, empty hull into a functioning houseboat with minimal help on the plumbing and electrical work from some old friends.


	7. Juleka's Worst Nightmare

"The Sandboy just checked in! Now nightmares can begin!"

Juleka was generally a strong sleeper, resilient even to the most discordant of sounds and brightest of lights. This was an advantage on a ship where the captain was firmly opposed to bedtimes, and maintained that anyone should be able to practice their musical instruments at any hour of the day or night, if they so desired. And so it was not the muffled sounds of yelling that woke Juleka, nor the light of the tugboat, nor the sudden onset of darkness that woke Juleka that night; rather, it was the strange smell that kept her from closing her eyes again.

That smell — what was it? Juleka wrinkled her nose in concentration. It was dark and bitter, like mold or sour coffee, but harsher, more metallic somehow. Juleka rolled over to check the LED clock on her wall: 1:30, too strange even for her mom to be awake and trying to "chart a new course through the sea of cooking." Besides, it didn't smell like any food Juleka knew, burnt or not.

Juleka reached out and yanked on the chain of the lamp next to her bed. Her sleeping compartment was empty and strangely silent; clothes, blankets, and pillows were scattered messily across the purple rug. Standing up awkwardly, Juleka pushed aside the partition that separated her side of the room from her brother's. As it squeaked on its homemade hinges, the dim light entered the other half of the room to reveal Luka's bed with the covers folded back— also empty. The smell in the air was getting stronger, and Juleka looked towards Luka's window to see a tendril of black fog pass over the porthole, blotting out the lights from the bank of the Seine.

Staring outside for a moment, Juleka ran out of her room and through the downstairs lounge. The ship must be on fire! It didn't smell like ordinary smoke— maybe it was some sort of burning plastic? Her room— Luka must have escaped— but why wouldn't anyone wake her up first?

Juleka dashed up the stairs, through the greenhouse, and towards the gangplank, concentrating only on moving her sleepy limbs through the piles of random items that lay scattered throughout the ship without tripping. She stumbled around a tree, and ran towards the gangplank. The cloud was thicker the closer she got to the front of the ship, its pungent smell making Juleka cough. It was even starting to impede her vision. Just a few more steps, though, and she'd be off the ship and able to call the firefighters, and save everyone—

When Juleka was almost at the gangplank, the fog around her thickened into a tentacle of darkness. At surprising speed, the solidified smoke reached out and _grabbed_ Juleka, pushing her aside like a blast of wind from a leafblower. Juleka yelled in shock, but the tendril just wrapped itself around her face as well and sucked her into the depths of the cloud, pulling her hair across her face and sweeping her briefly off her feet as it dragged Juleka over the bumps in the stage and onto the front deck of the ship.

Juleka was surrounded by the dark gray fog, unable to see anything except a few smaller, darker swirls turning in the chaos. The deck immediately beneath her feet was in shadow, and the lights of Paris on either side were extinguished. The normal sounds of the Seine were muffled, and the strange, bitter smell was stronger than ever. Juleka found herself admiring the way the smoke twirled elegantly through the air, before she remembered the empty bedroom downstairs. While she might think the mysterious monster fog was cool, her family and friends would not; and until she knew everyone else was safe, she couldn't allow herself to drop her guard. Holding her arms in front of her for balance, Juleka walked slowly across the deck, feeling her way around the numerous chairs and other items in the churning darkness.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out through the fog.

"Hello, Juleka."

The fog in front of Juleka thinned and parted to reveal a gray chamber in the midst of the cloud, and silhouetted against its dim glow was a figure in black, with stiletto heels, puffed sleeves, and a rounded bun of hair on top that made them almost as tall as Juleka. A pair of shining eyes stared at her, partly obscured; they glowed a lurid pink, with black irises and pupils, and they squinted into a grin as Juleka approached.

"R-Rrr-R-Rose?"

"Do I look like a Rose to you?"

The figure stepped closer, and Juleka could see her costume more clearly: a black leotard with green-slit puffs around the shoulders and waist, extending from her pointed shoes, to her gloved hands, all the way up to her neck. Her face was pale green, with a black-swirled mask across the upper half; her hair was dark green as well, falling down to partially cover her left eye and wrapping up around a long tube that extended into a bulb in her hand. The body, face, and voice were similar to Rose's, but altered in a way that Juleka had never seen before: her smile was sharp, her eyes were fierce, and her bubbly voice was high and cruel. This was the anti-Rose, projecting darkness and power instead of softness and light.

"N-no..."

"Good."

An awkward moment passed in which Juleka tried desperately to understand what was going on and the not-Rose simply stood and stared. How had Rose, of all people, been akumatized again, with no warning, and into so strange a form? Finally, she blurted out, "What have you done with Luka?"

The figure laughed with a sound completely unlike Rose's usual giggle. "Him? That _musician_ is who you care about? Powers like mine, and the first thing you ask is 'Where's Luka?'" The figure chuckled again. "Forget that romantic dork and his guitar. There'll be no talk of melodies in _my_ domain."

"What... why..."

In response, the figure lifted up her arms; a tunnel opened through the fog to the edge of the deck. "Look."

Juleka walked over to the prow, aware of the gaze of the pink eyes shining behind her, and looked out over the water. The cloud was pouring down like oil over the surface of the Seine, replacing the waves with a matte black void. From this base, pillars of dark gray smoke bubbled up, silently expanding and contracting like giant jellyfish of darkness. The fog was rising over the yellow lights along the bank, and streamers of the mist arced high overhead to cut across the moon.

"Awesome, right?"

Juleka turned back and nodded her head, dumbstruck. There was no doubt that the scene before her was awesome. But that wasn't important now; she had to focus on her family, figuring it out—

In one swift movement, the not-Rose jumped up onto the railing of the prow and stood next to Juleka. In her left hand, she held out a small bulb, so black that it seemed to suck all the light out of the air around it. Squeezing the trigger, she released a thick cloud of the dark fog over the railing; unlike the rest, it stayed put, hanging in the air. With a wave of her gloved hand, the cloud warped and thickened even more, bending into a zigzag shape. As Juleka watched, the girl _stepped_ onto the cloud with her stiletto-heeled foot, and strode briskly up the dark steps, mounting high into the surrounding fog.

"Well? Come on!"

Tentatively, Juleka put one foot out onto the clouds. It felt— not quite solid, but firm, as if she were being pushed up by a powerful magnet every time her feet sank through the surface. She walked up the stairs, wondering how anyone could make this climb in stilettos, before the cloud leveled off into a platform about five meters above the deck. The girl smiled again, beckoning her towards the edge of the flattened cloud.

They were above most of the fog, and the moon now shone brightly through only a fine veil of mist. From here, Juleka could see the entire surface of the Seine, from the bridge in front of them to the turn behind them, covered in pure velvety darkness. The _Liberty_ itself was mostly engulfed, from what she could see; giant tentacles of vapor twisted and writhed in the air, chasing each other on the eddies of wind. The girl swept her arm outward, directing a wave of fog to flow over the banks and extinguish some of the lights. Then, she frowned for a moment, concentrating, and seemed to pull a thin film of the darkness off her hand, though it still remained gloved. She thrust the black scrap at Juleka, who took hold of it, doubtfully. It felt like the same solid smoke that she was standing on, only molded into the shape of a hand.

"Are you dumb? Wear it!"

Juleka put her right hand into the fog glove. It looked too small for her, but it stretched smoothly to fit her hand. She flexed her fingers, admiring how light and cool it felt; she was something of a connoisseur of gloves, and this one felt comfortable yet secure.

Experimentally, Juleka waved her gloved hand towards the bank. Just like before, a wave of fog rose up, splashing on the rocks and billowing over a few lights. She tried again, harder, and a giant tsunami crashed over the edge, past the trees, and spilled all the way to the retaining wall of the city. The wave widened out, putting out lights one by one as it flowed off into the distance.

"So, what do you think?"

Juleka laughed, exhilarated by the night air, the magic around her. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

The figure laughed back. "I knew you'd love it! I tried before to conquer this city by day, but now, everything the dark touches is my kingdom. I, the Miasma Queen!"

Miasma Queen. Juleka repeated the name to herself, and suddenly stopped smiling. It was a cool name, with a nice ring to it, but somehow, it felt wrong. _Because it was an akuma name._

Juleka looked at Miasma Queen again, who smiled back at her, but not in a happy or calming way at all. The bitter smell of the cloud seemed to intensify again around them. "And you haven't seen the half of what I can do, yet."

About 200 meters away, there was a clot of gray vapor on the river's surface, roughly the size and shape of a small boat. Juleka watched as Miasma Queen made a pulling gesture, and the cloud began to move towards them; the mists parted, revealing the blue-and-white paint of a police vessel. The fog quickly closed again as the boat stopped moving, almost directly below them.

Miasma Queen clenched her fingers, and the cloud began shrinking downwards, pushing the boat down into the Seine.

"No," Juleka blurted out. Miasma Queen gave her an amused glance, but kept pushing. Juleka felt a twinge of fear in her stomach. "Stop that. Please."

"Why? Isn't it awesome that I can do this?"

Juleka paused. "N-n-not if s-stuff is getting hurt. Don't sink it! You could-"

"Too late." Miasma Queen withdrew her hand, and the cloud quickly lost its shape and poured down along the black river surface, leaving no trace of the boat behind.

The night seemed colder than before. A smoky wind blew through Juleka's hair and her thin pajamas, making her shiver. Juleka looked back towards the _Liberty,_ and gasped in panic— the cloud stairs were no longer there.

Juleka felt a tap on her shoulder, and whirled around to find herself face-to-face with Miasma Queen's pink eyes. "Why don't you try it yourself?"

"N-n-o—" Miasma Queen's smiling face snapped into disapproval. She pulled Juleka close to the edge, thrusting out her hand into the clouds. Another grayish blob appeared, dragging its contents through the surface of the void. With a snap of Miasma Queen's fingers, the blob stopped immediately in front of the two and dissipated to reveal another boat, emblazoned with the word _Police._ The spotlight at the front of the ship was on, but only penetrated about a meter into the clouds.

"Sink it," Miasma Queen commanded.

Juleka looked at the boat. The cabin was completely filled with an opaque vapor, making it impossible to tell who or what was inside. She shook her head. "Why? What's the point?"

"Because we _can!_ " Miasma Queen swiped viciously with her arm, sending a towering dark wave towards the boat; but waved it away at the last moment. "What's the point of a power like mine, if you won't even use it? Don't you think things like this are cool? Haven't you dreamed about seeing them before? Told your friends, written stories? Well, now it's real, and it's all for you!" She spun around, pointing to the skyline of Paris. "All this could be yours to make the way you wanted it! Why would you leave it all _normal_? I thought you hated normal! Isn't this better? Isn't this _awesome?_ "

Juleka took a step back. "No. This is not awesome. This is evil. People on that boat could die."

Miasma Queen narrowed her eyes. "I'll show you _evil_."

The cloudy glove surrounding Juleka's right hand suddenly clamped down tightly. She cried out, jerking her hand upward in pain; the glove jerked back, pulling her forward, almost off the edge of the platform. She stumbled, falling to her knees, with her right hand outstretched before her. The dark glove contorted, and forced her fingers to twist in a curling motion.

Tendrils of ink-black fog started rising around the boat, growing faster and faster. The headlamp went out.

Juleka struggled against the glove, but it was firm as iron. Miasma Queen watched, smirking, as every twitch of Juleka's hand sent the tentacles lashing higher over the boat. With a mighty effort, Juleka tried to pull her hand away; but instead, the fog collapsed, and the boat was pulled down out of sight. Not a ripple remained on the surface of the black river.

Miasma Queen nodded her head; the glove loosened, and Juleka got slowly to her feet, hiding her face from the pink-eyed gaze. The high-heeled figure loomed over her.

"What's the matter? We're just getting started! Come, I have a whole city for you!"

Juleka started breathing quickly. She could feel a panic attack coming on, as if the dark fog were churning inside her. "S-s-stop... I don't... want..."

"What do you mean, you don't want it? It's yours!" Juleka shook her head, and Miasma Queen slowly nodded back with a very un-Rose-like smile. "Yes, haven't you always admired the cool villains? Well, what could be cooler than this? I listened to what you said about them, you know. Aren't I _so_ much better than that stupid _Princess Fragrance—_ or that powerless idiot _Rose?_ " She scowled. "Ugh! I'm glad I'm not like her now, thanks to you! Don't you get it? I'm giving you the power that you inspired me to hold, so we can rule Paris together! Or are you too _weak_ and _scared_ to do it?"

Juleka tried to speak, but couldn't. She was paralyzed with fear, dread, and something even worse— _guilt._ Was she responsible for corrupting Rose, making her feel ashamed of her old style?

Miasma Queen leered at Juleka tauntingly. "You aren't so cool now that it's for real, are you? How can you be so pathetic? Isn't this your _dream?"_

She shook her head, trembling, and Miasma Queen turned away in disgust. Juleka remembered the times she had wondered about meeting akuma villains and shown her monster drawings to Rose— but she would take all of it back, never speak of her interests again, if it meant saving sweet Rose from this terrifying fate. How could this happen? It was unbearable, seeing Rose like this— dark, cold, destructive— was this how Rose saw _her?_ Though the power of the fog had seemed amazing at first, when the real people she loved were involved, the adventure of her dreams turned into Juleka's worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Couffaine family story continues, featuring an objectively cooler version of Princess Fragrance!
> 
> Thanks to @miraculous-content on Tumblr for helping me create an accurate map of the Liberty! In particular, Juleka's and Luka's room can appear very different between episodes depending on where they put their partition. I was going nuts trying to figure it out earlier. 
> 
> I wanted Juleka to be able to enjoy the "nightmare" at first, due to her interest in horror, until Sandboy's spell adapts to her real fear. Juleka is afraid of two things: being judged, and being an outcast. In her nightmare, Juleka faces pressure from anti-Rose to do something that she knows she can't, and starts to panic over it, then is mocked for being afraid, which makes it worse. Though normal Rose always reassures Juleka when she's feeling this way, anti-Rose tears down Juleka's self-esteem even more and makes her wonder if she herself is a bad person. Poor Juleka, she's one of my favorite characters... *grins chaotically*
> 
> Chronologically speaking, Juleka wakes up about 5 minutes after Luka looks back and sees the fog. Miasma Queen lets Juleka think she captured Luka and Anarka, but actually has no idea where anyone from the ship is; nor does she really care, yet.
> 
> No police boats were harmed in the making of this chapter- they're just akuma projections. 
> 
> And yes, Miasma Queen makes a Lion King reference. Depressed by all the angst? Try playing Spot the Meme in each chapter instead!


End file.
